


All in a Day's Work

by riverlight



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-30
Updated: 2008-07-30
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverlight/pseuds/riverlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack raises an eyebrow. "Zombies? I don't think those actually exist, Dr. Harper." They do, actually—he still shudders when he thinks about that time in Burma—but he wants to see what Owen will say.</p><p>Owen, it turns out, has gotten a lot harder to rile up over the years. "Yes, well," he says, mildly, "I used to think aliens didn't exist, either. I don't know what else they could have been, Jack. Vacant stares, aggressive behaviour, flopping all over the place. Sounds like zombies to me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	All in a Day's Work

**Author's Note:**

> Blame dsudis for this: not only did she inspire it, and beta it, but she got me into Torchwood in the first place. ♥, lady.
> 
> Jack/Ianto, ~1550 words, PG. For tw_flashfic's Zombie challenge.

Ianto Jones, Jack has discovered, is not a morning person.

Jack doesn't mind mornings, himself, but then again he suspects that waking up is a lot easier when you don't really sleep. Right now Ianto is moaning and flailing blindly at the alarm clock. Jack opens his eyes. Ianto's hair is spiky on one side and flat on the other and he has creases on his face from the sheet. "Oh god," Ianto says, heaving himself out of bed. "It's far too early to be awake."

"Come back to bed, then," Jack suggests, burrowing back down into the blankets. "You don't have to get up." Ianto peers at him balefully in the dim light, scrubbing a hand through his hair. It makes it stick up even more.

"I don't know if it's escaped your notice, Jack," he says, "but somebody has to put the coffee on and make sure there are pastries for the marauding hordes, and that somebody is me. And do you remember what happened the last time we forgot to give Myfawnwy her breakfast?"

"True," Jack says. The sub-level door is still dented where she flung herself against it, chasing them through the hallways. "You could go feed her and then you could come back." He reaches out and rubs his thumb over the sharp curve of Ianto's hipbone.

Ianto smacks his hand away. "Not," he says firmly, "until I've had my coffee." He has to interrupt himself to yawn. "Don't start with me, Jack, I'm a zombie until I've had my coffee. How long have you been awake? You're far too chipper."

Jack drifted to the surface of consciousness sometime in the early hours of the morning. "Since three or so," he says.

"And you've probably been lying there watching me all this time," Ianto says. "That's vastly creepy, you know." Even in the dark Jack can see his disapproving face.

Jack laughs. "Yup," he says. He has been, partially because it does bother Ianto and Jack likes to tease him about it, but also because he had strange dreams. And because Ianto is good to look at.

Ianto sighs. "This is what I get for shagging my time-travelling boss," he says. "Sex with a man who doesn't need to sleep. You do know how odd that is, don't you, Jack?"

"You've seen twenty odder things before breakfast," Jack points out. "Go make your coffee, Mr. Zombie. If you bring some back to me I'll make it up to you."

Ianto grins, his sudden startling beautiful grin. "Yes, I rather expect you will," he says. He leans forward and brushes a quick kiss against Jack's lips. "Get up, we've got lots to do today."

"Yes, sir," Jack says, and tosses off a sloppy salute. Ianto laughs, and clambers up the ladder toward the kitchen, still naked. "Better hope Gwen hasn't come in early," Jack calls after him.

If Ianto responds, it's lost in the echoing emptiness of the Hub before the world is awake. Jack smiles and stretches and gets up to begin his day.

* * *

By the time Jack is showered and dressed and makes it out into the Hub, clutching his promised coffee, Ianto is nowhere to be found. Tosh is perched on the edge of her chair, intent on something on the computer. Gwen, every line of her body radiating cheerfulness, looks up from her newspaper and beams at him when he comes in. "Good morning!" she says.

"Good morning, Gwennie-my-girl," Jack says, ruffling her hair. "What's new in the world today?

She wrinkles her nose at him, charmingly. "I hate it when you call me that."

"I know," Jack says, grinning. "That's why I do it. Good night with Rhys?"

Gwen flushes. "None of your business," she says firmly. "It really is a scandal how familiar you are with us, you know, Jack."

"I just do it to to make you blush, darling," Jack drawls, and laughs when she smacks him with the folded section of the newspaper. He loves winding her up; it's so easy. "So, tell me. What are we doing today? Ianto said there were grand plans."

"Well," Owen says, flinging open the door and dropping his satchel on the floor, "I don't know what Ianto in mind, but unless he had something terribly urgent planned, I suggest we postpone it. There are zombies in Winston Street." He flops into his chair, out of breath.

Jack raises an eyebrow. "Zombies? I don't think those actually exist, Dr. Harper." They do, actually—he still shudders when he thinks about that time in Burma—but he wants to see what Owen will say.

Owen, it turns out, has gotten a lot harder to rile up over the years. "Yes, well," he says, mildly, "I used to think aliens didn't exist, either. I don't know what else they could have been, Jack. Vacant stares, aggressive behaviour, flopping all over the place. Sounds like zombies to me."

Huh, Jack thinks. Zombies in Cardiff, now there's something to make the day interesting. "Tosh, can we get CCTV footage?" he asks.

Tosh works her usual magic, and a minute later they're all peering over her shoulder at a crowd of empty-eyed businesspeople, ambling woodenly around Winston Street and occasionally bumping into things like lampposts or benches or each other. They're like puppets who've had half their strings cut. At least they're not going anywhere, Jack reflects; if they were getting out into downtown there'd be all hell to pay.

"And you think _I'm_ bad before I've had my coffee," Ianto murmurs, _sotto voce,_ in Jack's ear. Gwen, who has ears like a bat, giggles. Tosh twists around and gives Jack a look.

"What?" Jack says, "Why are you giving me that look?" Everyone is silent for a moment. "We were just talking about zombies this morning!"

Gwen arches an eyebrow at him, amused. "Come now, Jack, you didn't think you were keeping it secret," she says. Ianto, behind him, makes a faint disbelieving noise.

Right. Well, apparently his team is observant enough to realize that sometimes Ianto spends his nights here. That's good. Not, however, something he particularly wants to discuss with PC Cooper, who has a particularly intrigued look on her face. "Look, we can talk about my private life another time," he says. "Right now there are zombies in Cardiff, what are we standing here for?"

On screen, three of the zombies careen into each other and fall over. "Right," Owen says, after a minute, dusting his palms against his trousers. "I'll just go fetch the car, then, shall I?"

* * *

Sixteen hours later, Jack has zombie guts on his coat, Ianto has a bruise purpling up prettily on his cheekbone, Owen looks frankly like he got run over by a bus, and Tosh is making muted noises of dismay at the blood on her shoes. Gwen, mysteriously, is entirely clean and unruffled. "I am never, ever doing that again," Owen says. "I am telling you now, Jack, the next time zombies attack Cardiff I am taking the day off."

Tosh, beside him, nods. "I have never wanted a shower more in my life. Not even after that time with the Bashelians and the boat."

"Well," Jack says. "I don't think we're likely to see a Mafarian zombie machine this side of the Rift again any time soon. Go home. Take the night off, you deserve it. That was good work today."

He probably doesn't tell them that enough. Gwen, still not out of her coat, beams. "Rhys did a curry. He'll be thrilled if I come home." She grabs her purse and is out the door before he can tell her that he wants her back at 8 tomorrow.

A minute later, Tosh and Owen have left too, visibly wilting, off to their flats and beds and, at least in Owen's case, "at least three pints." It's just him and Ianto, now. For a minute, the Hub is silent, quiet broken only by the ticking of the Rift machine and Myfawnwy's clacking in the rafters. Ianto is quiet, gazing calmly at him.

"You look exhausted," Jack says.

"Yes, well," Ianto murmurs, coming over to him. He reaches out and straightens Jack's collar. "Someone kept me up late last night, it's entirely not my fault."

"Not that you were complaining," Jack points out.

"Not," Ianto agrees definitively, "that I was complaining." He sighs, and leans his head briefly against Jack's shoulder.

"Go home, Ianto," Jack says. "It's been a hell of a day. You saved my life, what, three times?"

Ianto smiles, and trails his fingers over Jack's collarbone, a caress. "And Gwen's twice," he says, sounding satisfied. "Not to mention beating the clock to disable that damned machine." He doesn't, however, sound too put out by the thought. Torchwood: where zombies are all in a day's work. Jack laughs, quietly.

Ianto knuckles the small of his back and groans. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

Jack smiles. Beautiful Ianto and his beautiful sense of duty. "No, I don't mind. Come back tomorrow and I'll forgive you for leaving tonight."

"All right," Ianto says, and leans in to kiss him. "Until tomorrow." He kisses Jack again and ducks out the door. The sound of his singing to himself, in Welsh and quietly, echoes back down the stairwell at Jack as he leaves. Jack smiles and goes in to go to bed.


End file.
